


Take Away (everything I am)

by fakesheep-luna (octavaluna)



Series: imaginetonyandbucky fic&art prompt fills [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Dub-con Play, Everyone lies, Evil AU, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Neither is Bucky, Psychological issues, Psychopaths In Love, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Tony is definitively not alright, Vigilante AU, Violence, co-dependant behavior, comic extremis + MCU extremis, everyone's an asshole, mentions of physical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octavaluna/pseuds/fakesheep-luna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i></i><br/><sub> For the prompt: Imagine Tony being tired of all the backstabing happening and decides to concoure the world to make it stop. He the finds Bucky, that thinks like him and helps him. Bonus if Tony dont think twice about killing if it gets him what he want + Window Sex </sub><br/> </p><p>“Everyone I kill deserves to die.”</p><p>“True. But try to explain that to Captain Justice and Faith.” He takes a gulp of the scotch right out of the bottle and flops down on Tony’s lap, straddling his hips. “He cares too much. You and I? – We do what needs to be done.”</p><p>Tony circles his waist with both arms and pulls him closer, opening his mouth when Barnes offers him the bottle and swallowing the bitter liquid dry.</p><p>“Nobody ever believed I was able to care. So why should I?”</p><p>“Coming from somebody who is expected and probably should care more but doesn’t really give a fuck? – I’ll drink to that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Away (everything I am)

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I was writing this story when the new CW trailer came out. I owe to it my complete lack of painful reaction to the “gun to the face” scene. In fact I was in such a mindset that I found it funny and had a hard time understanding why people were heartbroken.

 

_Carnivore! Carnivore!_  
_Won't you come digest me?_  
_Take away everything I am_  
_Bring it to an end_  
_Make me fall. Make me bleed_  
_Go ahead and change me_  
_Take away everything I am_  
_Everything I am_

_**Starset - Carnivore**  _

 

 

 

“He escaped _again_?”

Sam flinches as Tony’s fists hit the table, but the rest of the avengers don’t react in any way, which only fuels Tony’s frustration.

“How is it even possible? You assured me, you assured everyone that it would be the last time! Every time Crossbones manages to wriggle out of your fucking useless attempts at keeping him under control he comes back and causes another disaster! How the fuck can you still tolerate that?”

“Tony, calm down,” Cap says, holding his palms up in a placating gesture “We’ll catch him.”

“Of course you will!” Tony snarls “Once he’s planted another bomb in a public area and assembled a team of stupid underage dropouts to cover his ass while he does the dirty job. You’ll catch him the same way you caught Dr. Doom all seven times already.”

Steve’s face hardens. “They had already planned escape and backup from outside.”

“You bet your ass they had.” Tony rolls his eyes. “After all, all they have to fear from you is expired prison food. It’s like a fucking vacation! Commit crime, get captured by the Avengers, endure a pep talk from Captain Fucking America about morals and justice and then chill in prison until it’s time to get back to work!”

“Enough!” Steve shouts and leans forward, getting into Tony’s space. But for once Tony doesn’t pull away, he holds his ground. “We’re giving you this information out of consideration. You have no say in the team’s business anymore.”

Tony grins, humorlessly. “Oh, so paying for everything, including the roof over your head, personally making all your toys and repairing the messes left after another one of your recurrent psychotic acquaintances wrecks a city, not to mention dealing with the press in the Avenger’s name grants me a sliver of consideration? How generous of you, Boss.”

A muscle in Steve’s jaw twitches but he says nothing in return. Tony pulls away, pacing around the office. His blood is boiling and the results of Crossbones’s latest visit to New York dance like a possessed ballet of numbers and facts behind his eyelids. He pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply.

“I’ve seen the latest polls, guys.” He turns around so assess the whole team – with the exception of Rhodey. “The public is not happy. You have to do something, step up your game or else-”

“What would you have us do?” Natasha asks calmly. She’s prepped against the wall and Tony can see the weariness in her eyes, she knows he’s right. “It’s our job to stop them. We can’t guarantee they won’t find a way to trick SHIELD or whatever authorities we hand them to. Even your specially designed tech is not infallible.”

“Well,” Tony shrugs and then soldiers on – because someone has to say it and it might as well be him. “There’s a reason why neither Stane nor Aldrich Killian ever escaped imprisonment.”

“Because you killed them!” Steve shoots up, indignantly. “We are Avengers, we don’t kill people!”

“Yes you do!” Tony turns to him. “Every time one of the villains you put away breaks out they come back and kill and wound civilians, not to mention insane amounts of property damage!”

“Figures you’d care about property damage.” Wanda materializes besides Steve, snarling at Tony. “Stark, as always more worried about money and commodity than human lives or feelings.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? And of course I care about property damage. That’s people’s whole lives! Their jobs, apartments, lifelong possessions! Everything they have – gone. Some of you may be used to live on the run or without material attachments, but do you have any idea how much the suicide rates spike after super villain attacks? The Maria Stark foundation does whatever we can but it’s not enough. At this rate – it’s never enough.”

“What?” She steps closer, all menace and restrained fury “Tired of repaying the debts you owe? Taking responsibility is starting to become too tedious?”  

And Tony sees red. She’s always so generous with this kind of commentary and he can’t take it anymore.

“Shut UP!” he yells. “You have no fucking right to lecture me about responsibility! You hypocritical, ignorant bloodsucker! I’ve been tolerating your jabs, your whining and verbal attacks for months! You hate me? FINE! Join the club! But don’t dare to act like you’re any better than me! I’ve had enough!”

He balls up his fists and hits the wall, hard. The sharp pain only shatters the walls he built around his own feelings, during months of desperate seeking, of combing through every corner of the world, every drop of the ocean, all for nothing. He’s never stopped looking. Uses it as a distraction to avoid thinking about the other loss in his life, the one that definitively has no repair.

But he’s been bottling it all, his ire and sorrow and retching disgust until he can’t anymore, and it’s like a dam breaking, that makes him lose control and he can’t help pouring everything out, at last.

“You think I’m responsible for your family’s death because my company built the bombs that fell on your village and traumatized you and your brother?! Why not come after me? Why not kill me when you had me there? Why not kill the few people important to me and destroy my company? No! Instead of fucking revenge you wanted to play a game. You mentally violated us! Manipulated us using our worst fears and the most intimate, personal, feelings. You were not entitled to them! Ultron is on me, but you and your brother sided with him! And don’t give me that crap about not knowing what he was up to! You knew very well he was no good! Or you couldn’t see it because you are not better either! For some reason you only turned your back at him when you realized he wanted the whole world gone. And you need the planet to live in. You want me facing responsibility? I’ve been facing responsibility, for ages! For old and new mistakes! I haven’t seen you face responsibility for that South African city!”

Tony takes a deep breath but instead of calming him it just powers him up more, and his eyes are stinging, vision blurring over, but he keeps going.

“You! It was you! You got into Bruce’s head, you unleashed the Hulk, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE, NOT BRUCE!! You are the reason so many people died! Not Bruce, not even me that time! You knew what would happen if you sent him there! He hadn’t done anything to you! He was not even there! You sacrificed the lives, literal and metaphorical on a whim, of hundreds of people and never faced any responsibility! Their blood, their losses and suffering are on YOUR hands. And yet you are yelling at me about responsibility when you were never held responsible for the murders you committed! It all fell on Bruce! He was innocent, but he’s the one on the run again! On self inflicted exile! Part of his reasoning had to do with Ultron, but it’s that Hulk incident that he couldn’t get out of his head. Do you have any idea how much it cost for him to start trusting his other half? To find some peace? To find friends and a place where he could feel safe? You are the reason he’s gone, and he won’t come back as long as you are around. And now you call yourself an Avenger, call yourself a hero and have the gait to attack me? Go to hell, Witch!”

He didn’t realize he was getting into her space until she flinches and steps back, eyes wide and panicked and then Steve is suddenly there, face red with anger as he pushes Tony back, who stumbles and almost falls on his ass if not for the hands gripping his shoulders. It’s Natasha, and she stabilizes Tony with a sorrowful expression on her face. She, at least to some degree, understands.

Tony didn’t realize how badly he is shaking either. Shaking with anger, deception and grief. But he doesn’t have time to recover, to pull himself together before Captain fucking America is back there, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Back off, Stark. She’s just a girl, and she went through a lot. Her brother’s passing isn’t enough of a punishment for you?”

“She’s not the only one who lost her family back there.” And his eyes flicker for a second to Vision, silently standing in the corner and watching them all like zoo animals.

“I know,” Steve states, arms crossed over his broad chest and back straight as a rod. “But you were way out of line. She’s a good ally, and a loyal member of this team. I’d appreciate if you restrained yourself from verbally assaulting my people in the future.”

“ _Your people? Loyal?_ ” Tony sneers and shakes his head. His hands are still trembling and the left one aches with the agony of burst knuckles, but he barely notices it. “Bruce was _your people_. I was your people! She came out of nowhere, she was the enemy, and yet you took her word over ours. What does that say about your judgment of loyalty, Rogers?

“Says the man who’s only loyal to himself.”

“Steve, enough.” Sam steps forward, eyes darting between them. “Let it go, please.” And it’s only out of consideration for him (Tony likes Sam, he really does, it’s a pity the guy thinks the sun shines out of Capsicle’s ass.)  that Tony doesn’t punch Rogers. Well that and the unbreakable hold of Natasha’s hand on his shoulder. She’s quiet, assessing the situation and ready to act a second before it escalates. It’s probably for the better though, considering that Tony would rather not damage his other hand too.

Instead he fixes Rogers with a glare. “You aren’t going to take my proposition are you?”

“We are not killing people.” He insists. “We aren’t anybody to play Judge, Jury and Executioner, and unlike you, we care about giving a second chance. Or a fourth, fifth if it’s needed. Our prisoners deserve the same treatment as any other criminal and are entitled to respect for their human rights. They deserve to be judged for their transgressions and we have the moral obligation to protect the people from them, but not the right to decide who lives or dies. That’s what means to be an Avenger: to give example and make the people of this country feel safe.” He practically inflates during his speech, damn bullheaded peacock.

“Oh don’t give me one of your pep-talks, Rogers! And tone down the superiority, I saw the poll results from the last month. Your red, white and blue ass is specially popular with kids and the golden generation, but do you know who is the favorite ‘superhero’ for people of working ages? Do you know who the people of this country trust the most to keep them safe from the bad guys? _The Punisher._ Frank Fucking Castle is ahead of you. Because he goes after the terrorists, the mafia, the murderers and the rapists and when he’s done with them – they never come back. Ordinary people are not dumb. Nobody cares about one life if that life is determined to take out as many as it can, if it terrifies them because even if it’s captured it always comes back, always finds a way to kill their friends and family and destroy their homes again and again. You have good intentions, Steve, but you are either too blind or too naive to realize your system is not working.”

“Shut up, Stark! This, this right here, is why you’re not an Avenger anymore-”

“I’m not an Avenger because I left the team on my own grounds. I had a missing friend to look for and two people on your new roster I couldn’t be around for two very different reasons.” He doesn’t mention that after the Ultron fiasco- well, good thing he never felt like much of a hero to begin with.

“You-!” Rogers starts but then apparently Natasha has had enough, because she raises her hand and he shuts up.

“I think it’s time for us to calm down,” she says, already calm enough. Then turns to Tony. “Why don’t I walk you back to your car, Stark?”

Tony nods, already worn out enough that he just can’t find it in himself to argue anymore. He’s tired, and the emotional release left his body feeling like cotton. He takes one last look at Vision, hoping for something, he isn’t even sure what, but getting the same, intelligent but foreign stare in return.

He doesn’t spare even a glance for the rest.

They walk in silence through the corridors of the New Avengers facility and Tony has the feeling that he won’t be visiting these walls for a long time after what happened today.  Some resentful part of him wants to lash out and take it away, leave them under the proverbial rain, but he knows he won’t do it. Not for as long as Natasha, Vision and Rhodey are part of the team, even though the later still spends far more time with the military than socializing or training with the rest of the team. _Thank god for small mercies_ , that selfish voice inside Tony’s head whispers.

They get to Tony’s car and, as he was expecting, instead of turning back Natasha slides into the passenger seat. Tony sits in the driver’s place and lowers his forehead onto the wheel.

Finally, after watching him for a couple of minutes, Natasha speaks.

“Whatever you’ve been planning to do – go ahead.”

He turns his head, still resting it on the soft leather, to look at her sideways. “How do you know I’ve been planning something?”

“Because this visit felt like a last cry for help. You were expecting us to say something, do something to change your mind. Instead, we just helped you to make it up.” She shrugs. “And it was an utter disaster.”

He snorts. Understatement of the century. “I was an utter asshole to that kid, wasn’t I?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t sugar-coat it. “But you weren’t wrong either.”

“I just don’t get how you can do it? You’re keeping this dysfunctional bunch afloat and together all by yourself and you’re living with her. After everything-” He doesn’t finish, zeroing his view on a speck of dirt on the windshield, but she understands it anyway.

“They are not the best roster we could have arranged, no,” she agrees, calmly. “Doesn’t help either that our supposed leader has his head anywhere but in the game most of the time. And without anybody to challenge him, to ground him in the present, he gets sidetracked by ghosts of the past way too often.”

“What about his Golden Winter Glory? Is he going to catch him?”

“No,” Natasha deadpans “He won’t. For the same reason you won’t find Bruce.”

“Because he doesn’t want to be found,” Tony finishes for her and she gives him one of her rare, genuine smiles.

“Give it up, Tony. You’ll only be doing him a favor. If he ever feels ready to come back to us – he will. But not a second before.”

“I just don’t get Cap. He’s completely wrapped around her finger.”

“The reason Cap is so taken with Maximoff is because he sees a lot of himself in her. They are both former prey that haven’t internalized yet that they’re now the predator. Steve still forgets sometimes that he’s no longer a small guy and that the way he stands and says things, as well as his methods to enforce his authority, read differently with his current body and social status. Wanda sees herself as a victim, and Cap’s babying doesn’t help at all. However, she does have the potential to correct herself, to become someone that will turn into a blessing for the world, something beautiful that neither of us could ever aspire to. She made mistakes, yes, but you and I know better than anyone the real value of second chances. As someone extremely dangerous – she needs a guide. I may not be her biggest fan, but I know a lost soul when I see one, and I can understand, in part, how she feels. I also know what _not_ to do after a life I’d rather not remember. But if my experience can be of use – I’m not above drawing knowledge from it.”

Tony raises one eyebrow. “Have you ever taken the MENSA test?”

“I don’t need it to know what I’m worth.”

“Be careful, Nat.” He grins, tired but genuine. “Nobody likes a smart-ass.”

“Spoken from experience, Stark?”

“You know it.”

They stay in a comfortable silence for couple of minutes, and he knows she isn’t done yet, she’s just giving him time to gear up for it, so when she finally resumes their conversation he’s ready for it.

“You were both wrong back there, you and Cap.”

“How so?”

“The world needs the Avengers and Captain America to be the paragon of justice and forgiveness. The kids that you mentioned, the kids that adore him, will grow up with his morals imprinted upon them. Morals that might be too naive and idealistic for one single person, too simplistic, but on the scale of a whole generation, more muted and diluted but still embedded deep inside – they can become the absolute norm. However, for that day to come, we need people like Castle. We need those that aren’t above using the most dirty and despicable methods, those that don’t mind damning their own soul and have their hands drenched in blood in order to protect the lives and innocence that future generation to come.”

Tony snorts and straightens up. Looking away from her.

“I’ve already damned my soul. I have no more to lose.”

“Which is why I’m not stopping you even though I know what you have in mind.”

He looks at her again “Thanks, Rushman.” So she leans in and gives him an awkward but still surprisingly nice hug.

“Good luck and don’t die out there, Stark.”

Natasha opens the door to get out of the car and he can’t help but run his mouth again. “You could come with me. We could work on this together.”

She shakes her head. “No. I have duties here and I don’t think I can go back to being _that_ person again. But I might extend your invitation to a friend. Neither of you should be alone.”

With that cryptic last line she slams the car door shut and walks away. Tony watches until she disappears into the facility and then sticks the keys in the ignition.

No going back now.

 

***

 

The tower feels empty. It always feels empty these days. Ever since the Avengers left, followed by Pepper (Back to California, away from the crazy New York and away from Tony), it has felt lacking of life, but the absence that he feels the most, feels in his bones, in the emptiness of the air he breathes, is that of JARVIS. Tony has Friday installed in the workshop because he needs an AI to assist with urgent work he just can’t be bothered to spend his time on. However, installing her in the whole building and his phone felt wrong somehow, like trying to replace JARVIS, so he gave up on it. It’s not like he actually spends any time wandering the deserted halls anyway.

He had to install buttons in the elevator.

It takes him straight down to the workshop, to his sanctuary that now feels foreign and devoid of personality. It’s not fair on Friday, and he would feel worse about it if he didn’t know that she hadn’t developed yet the ability to care about such things. JARVIS had, and he was the worst shit when offended. Not a good idea to anger a very sassy, very sentient AI that controls the building you live in, that’s for sure.

But now JARVIS is gone, and there’s nobody to nag Tony about manners or to express concern for him.

“Good evening, boss,” Friday chirps joyfully when he enters the workshop. _Wrong, all wrong, why did he even think about giving her the voice and personality of a teenage girl?_ “How may I be of assistance today?”

Tony sighs and allows himself a moment to think about it. Does he really know what he’s doing? But then Cap’s face flickers in front of his eyes and he straightens up and marches towards the door on the left side of the workshop. That used to be Helen’s private space, now it’s Tony’s again. He misses her too.

“Friday, commence operation 'Maya’ and secure all communications with the exterior. Complete seal level 10. Set the bots to prepare everything needed for the aftermath.”

“Already done, boss.”

He walks to the medical cot and starts arranging the equipment. The last and the most important piece comes out is the little box that opens under the electric signal from the chip in his forearm. Tony tosses the box aside and extracts the syringe full of softly glowing, golden substance.

“You know the orders, Friday, once I’m under destroy every last trace of this.”

“Understood.”

Tony hooks himself to the monitor equipment and lies down, staring at the syringe against the ceiling lights.

This is probably the craziest, most dangerous thing he’s ever done, the part that Natasha couldn’t possibly guess about and that she definitively wouldn’t approve of. There’s a slight chance he may not survive the procedure, even with the months of calibrating that it took, but Tony knows there’s no other way.

He’s tired. He’s always, constantly tired. His body aches from decades of self-abuse, his liver is going to give up on him any day, all his ribs have already been broken more than once, most of the bones in his body did too. The CRADDLE can work miracles, but it’s not a solution to the most lingering of his problems. He’s limited too, limited by his frail humanity and the understanding that whatever lurks outside of these walls is always bigger than him, that he’s never enough. And his heart aches so much all the time…

He doesn’t have anything to lose either, and if there’s one thing Tony Stark always prided himself in it’s his ability to take the risk without batting an eye.

_Time to get this over with._

He takes a deep breath and injects himself with the Extremis virus.

 

***

 

Waking up is a gradual process. He feels the cocoon around his body fragment and break down to dust first, then the blood running through each and every cell of his body. Tony can tell how many bones he has and knows instinctively how every damaged inch of tissue had been repaired and which had needed to be rebuilt anew. He feels the strength of his new, improved muscles and sees the feedback – the readings of durability, tension and energy employed – flick in a new corner of his brain when he flexes.

Tony opens his eyes and the world is different, sharper, more logical, more complicated but at the same time completely schematic. The colors are more vibrant, the edges as clear as the lines of an ink pen. Everything makes sense.

He’s ravenous, so when one of the bots rolls towards him with a special protein/calorie blend in a cup he snatches it up and drowns it in one go. He tests the new feature in his brain and commands the bot to bring him another one. He doesn’t speak it out loud, doesn’t even use words within his mind but it works, and he looks around the silent workshop, his eyes powering up every dormant piece of equipment as they sweep over it. He can read the data it sends at him without even blinking.

“Good morning, Boss. It’s currently 4 am. You’ve been in the transitional period for fifty-nine hours. All scans indicate that the procedure has been successful. Welcome back.”

Tony sends her a reward in her own language and stands up, shedding his clothes as he walks towards a glass wall.

The face that looks back at him is that of an intimately known stranger.

Aesthetically he knows he doesn’t look any different. His face and hair are the same, so is the build of his body, maybe firmer and less abused, but every line, every dip and the curve of every muscle is the same. The crow’s feet around his eyes are still there, as he wanted them to, and so’s the brush of silver on his temples. Nobody else would be able to tell a difference, but Tony knows, Tony can feel it; the coiled power waiting to be unleashed, the way his body expands beyond it’s borders.

He clenches his fists and as the movement ripples through his forearms and biceps they light up with a golden glow from the inside. The Extremis formula is stable and Tony can feel it fully integrated in his body functions. He takes a deep breath and lights himself up completely, shining radiant like a star as the equipment around him goes haywire.

This is it. The new him, that he’s always been waiting for. Everything at the palm of his hand, everything he’s been working towards laid down in clear, concise lines in front of his eyes. Every doubt is gone, every trepidation replaced by cold, efficient certainty.

Tony knows what he has to do.

 

***

 

Tony is smart enough not to publicize his new direction. He doesn’t paint his armor black or releases a megalomaniac monologue on national TV, on the contrary, he invests in stealth technology and makes sure to be seen as often as possible attending charity galas and his company’s functions. He even talks to Pepper during one of those events and she tells him how happy she is that he seems to be doing better. He smiles at her and it’s not forced, because the feelings of longing and pain, while not completely gone yet, can’t touch him, can’t crawl their way into his heart anymore.

He shows up in his old armor to rescue a couple of kids from a burning building, which he would have done anyway, but the added benefit of people’s sympathy is exactly what he’s looking for.

He tries out his new talents when a moron called “The absorbing Man” breaks out of his special cell for the fucking _eleventh_ time and goes AWOL. Not for a long time, Tony knows it, but his trace is still fresh and so he sneaks out at night, under the cover of darkness and the stealth feature of his new armor, he corners the bastard in his rat’s nest hideout in some old warehouse and opens fire. The fight doesn’t last long. The Absorbing Man does exactly what Tony had planned and throws himself at Iron Man, his stone body changing to a familiar texture as soon as his skin touches the armor’s surface. He pins Tony to the ground, laughing.

The armor on Tony’s whole right arm retracts and he pushes up the faceplate, grinning with a gleam that he knows must look like sadistic hunger. “You think you can absorb anything? Absorb this!” And he closes his hand around his enemy’s neck, instantly heating it up and holding it tight as the man starts to scream and try to get away. But Tony doesn’t even budge, he’s so much stronger now, and his hand burns through skin and flesh until the screams die out and doesn’t stop until the neck he’s been holding into collapses as carbonized dust in his fist.

Tony pushes away what’s left of the roasted body off him and lies down, looking up the warehouse’s ceiling. A victorious laugh bubbles up in his chest and he lets it out.

This is amazing.

The next one to go is, finally, Crossbones. And this time it happens in public, with everyone’s eyes on Tony and his usual, red and gold flashy armor. He makes it look like an accident, like he didn’t miss on purpose a shot that collapsed a steel beam on the construction side. Tony shoots a paralytic ray towards Crossbones, the latest of his stun weapons, inspired on the tech that Steve had used so long ago to steal his arc reactor – invisible, impossible to capture on camera – and holds Crossbones in place long enough for the beam to crush his skull.

The Avengers arrive to the scene four minutes later, by the time Iron Man is long gone, and Tony mentally blocks all of Steve’s calls. Two hours later he receives an encrypted message from Natasha. “Well done.”

Oh, if only she knew.

 

***

 

Tony wakes up at five in the morning, only two hours after he fell asleep on his workshop couch, because he knows, he instinctively knows, that his privacy’s been breached.

“Friday!” he shouts out but receives no reply. He checks mentally and finds her blocked. He orders a reboot and hooks up into every security camera in the tower. Half of them are disabled, some flicking out that exact same moment. But he sees a flick of something, a shadow shifting on one of the empty guest-rooms. The penthouse. He tries the lights there but they flare up for a millisecond and then go dark with a shower of sparks.

Tony grits his teeth as the armor encloses him. He flies up the staircase and makes it in two and a half seconds, the doors opening in front of him with a silent whoosh.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he calls out. “Here, baby, where are you? Come out let daddy see you.” He fires out a repulsor at an ugly vase to spook whoever dared to sneak into his home and make them come the fuck out.

His body heat scans detect the threat a fraction of a second before it collides with him, destabilizing and rolling them both, knocking down furniture and breaking glass along the way. As Tony throws him off and comes up on one knee, and shots another repulsor blast. His target dodges it and slides, fast as a lightning, on the floor kicking Tony’s chin up from below, then grabbing his neck and raising a fist, ready to strike. Tony shoves the intruder away and the repulsors hit the man square in the chest this time, however, it only earns him a pained grunt and a standing lamp thrown at his face. Tony snatches it up and uses it as a bat, using the moment the intruder steps back to thrown himself forward with the aid of his jet boots. He slams into the other man and they crash into a wall.

The attacker frees one of his arms and bring a knife right down into Tony’s eye slit, not breaking it, the material is way too strong for that, but chipping it. Tony sees his intention to strike again as they wrestle but before he can bring it down Tony gets a clean shot from the paralytic ray. Surprisingly, that gives him but a couple of seconds before he’s pushed away by his attacker’s left arm. He stumbles though, and Tony shots him with a repulsor, following right after and pining him to the ground.

The man’s face is hidden behind a mouth-and-eyes full mask but Tony has a feeling he knows him from somewhere. Then the stranger’s left fist impacts with Tony’s mask sideways and he cries out as the faceplate dents inwards, painfully impacting against his teeth. The attacker uses the moment of distraction to throw Tony backwards and jumps back, his whole frame bathing in a pool of moonlight before blending back into the shadows. However, it’s enough for Tony to catch the gleam of metal at the tips of his fingerless gloves.

The Winter Soldier?

Well that explains the extraordinary strength and endurance. Why would Cap’s old buddy sneak into his house? Did Steve sent him after Tony for the stunt with Crossbones? But that was almost a week ago. Why now? And wasn’t the man supposed to be on the run?

Tony blocks a punch and decides to hell with it. He jumps backwards and lets the armor disassemble around him.

“Hey, Barnes!” he calls out, lighting his whole body up. “If you came here to do something in particular better talk now! If not, let’s get this over with.”

With the light show of his own making Tony can see the Winter Soldier clearly, frozen in place.

“That wasn’t in your file,” he says in a gruff voice. It’s muted but tinted with surprise nonetheless. Tony can only imagine the guy’s facial expression behind the mask.

“It’s new,” he concedes. “Why are you attacking me? Did HYDRA send you?”

“I’m not with them anymore!” the soldier spits back with venomous rage, tensing up.

“Okay, okay.” Tony arches one eyebrow, raising his palms up, although considering he’s still powered-up it probably looks more menacing than placating. “Cap then? You know we are allies, right?” He cools down a fraction, just to telegraph his intentions, but Barnes remains in a defensive position.

“Not anymore.”

“I’m not an Avenger now, but we’re still friends.”

“Not according to my source.”

Tony blinks in confusion. Source? Who the fuck got wind so rapidly of their little home-wreck?

“What are you looking for, then? Some sort of retribution in this name?”

The soldier shakes his head.

“I need sanctuary.”

Tony almost drops his jaw. Did he hear it right?

“Excuse me?!”

“I need sanctuary,” the soldier repeats, as mechanically as the first time.

Because why would Barnes come here. “Rogers doesn’t live here anymore. I can give you the address, tho. Or you could let him catch up with you.”

“I need sanctuary _from_ Steve. And HYDRA. Everyone.”

Well, that’s certainly… unexpected. Tony lets Extremis calm down and, without taking his eyes off the man ha can only see now thanks to his heightened sight, walks to the painting near the kitchen and tilts the frame up, flicking the emergency lights switch. They come to life and Tony takes in the sight of his visitor. The fight did a number on him, his uniform is burnt through where the repulsor blasts hit him, but…

“Let me see your face, I prefer to look the people I’m not trying to kill in the eyes.”

Barnes hesitates, but then shrugs and reaches behind his head, well aware that Tony has the upper hand here.

The mask falls away and Tony has to resist the temptation to wolf whistle. Then mentally shrugs and does it anyway. Barnes sure as hell knows how to rock the apathetic hobo look. His eyes hang on a difficult balance between piercing intensity and emptiness, stone-blue like the arctic ice. His jaw and cheeks are covered by a week-worth of stubble, but the bastard could pose for a lumberjack-themed porn magazine.

Tony waggles his eyebrows but Barnes doesn’t react, still looking at him warily, so Tony walks towards the bar and takes out two glasses and a bottle of scotch, going to sit on the couch from where he can admire the view.

The soldier’s eyes widen and flicker just for a second, taking in the confident sprawl of Tony’s body, from his shoulders to his feet, lingering on his hips. _Huh, interesting._

“So, if you really are looking for my help, why did you attack me?”

“I didn’t, actually. You came to me fully armed and I-” He looks around the trashed room, frowning. “Sometimes I react violently to certain situations. I tend to have… impulses.”

“Hm. And instead of knocking on the front door you disabled my security system why exactly?”

“I can’t knock on the front door, and now you know that your system is vulnerable. Give me sanctuary and I’ll let you know how I disabled it.”

Tony is impressed. Which is to say a lot since these days very little can truly impress him. He grins, approvingly, relaxes further into the cushions and wriggles the glass full of scotch in one hand, beckoning Bucky further with the other. “C'mon then, sexy boy, this is the good stuff.”

Barnes huffs and rolls his eyes, which is his most genuine expression up to date, but then strides towards Tony, graceful and silent but full of raw power. Two weeks ago Tony would have probably been terrified of what a man like that could to him if unleashed. Now he just runs his tongue along his upper lip, drinking in the picture he doesn’t even know why he finds so compelling. Barnes might be a legendary assassin and a superhuman, but so is Tony now, and knowing that he could probably best him in a fight, and the amount of destruction that would cause, speeds up Tony’s pulse, makes him want to take his hand to his crotch and press down on it. The idea alone of that powerful body under him, no layers of metal between them, flesh to flesh…

Barnes takes the glass with his metal hand and brings it to his lips, taking a long sip but never breaking eye contact with Tony. He doesn’t take another step, doesn’t move a muscle, but there’s a newfound intensity in his eyes, raw and expectant. It’s that expectation that catches Tony’s attention as he realizes that Barnes is probably considering the same possibilities as he does. _Oh_ , he thinks, _well then_ , and lays back with his back propped against the couch, uncrossing his legs and spreading them slowly, right in front of Barnes, his growing arousal prominently on display.

“You know I don’t really need you to figure out how you broke in here, right?” he says as Barnes sets his glass on the overturned coffee table and casually drops on his knees, between Tony’s spread thighs. And what a gorgeous picture he presents there… “If you want my help, you’re gonna have to give me something else.”

Barnes looks down and slowly runs both hands along the inside of Tony’s thighs. Inhaling deeply, that broad chest expanding in the confines of the worn leather as his hands travel from Tony’s knees to the prominent bulge in his jeans. He avoids touching it but slides his fingertips to the buckle of Tony’s belt and carefully draws the strap end out of the loop. He then looks up at Tony from under his eyelashes, tilting his head a fraction so the hair falling on his face doesn’t obscure his slightly glazed eyes.

“I think we are gonna be able to figure something out.”

 

***

 

Tony texts Natasha the next day from his workshop. _“_ _Your friend dropped by today. I hope his brother doesn’t mind.”_

“ _My friend is a grown up man. His brother has no say in where he goes or what he does.”_

“ _A little heads up would have been nice.”_

“ _Where’s the pleasure in that?”_

Tony stares at the screen in amazement and then starts laughing. Bless the Black Widow and her secret superpowers.

 

  
***

 

Contrary to Tony’s expectations, Barnes doesn’t spend his days lounging on the couch. He’s gone most of the time but when he comes back he’s clearly in need of it. Battered and bruised, with an aura of steely calm around him and dried blood between the plates of his arm. He hides when he does that, licks his wounds in some dark corner, Tony supposes, and the next day resurfaces just to raid the fridge.

He only seeks out Tony to fuck in exchange for information on the remains of HYDRA, always looking almost feral and desperate for it. Which is absolutely fine in Tony’s books. He has his own fish to fry and Barnes’ vendetta is his own deal.

Tony is careful not to kill every villain he fights and tries not to cross the Avengers. The public catches on, however. Word in the news is that he’s ruthless, cruel and uncontrolled. Word in the streets is that Iron Man, unlike some, gets the job done, keeps the average working Joe safe.  

He gets restless sometimes though. When he has to let go another idiot alive because Cap’s team showed up “to assist” or simply because the villain of the week was a new one and didn’t meet Tony’s criteria for when enough is enough.

He returns to the tower then, shaking with excess energy, and heads straight for the special gym he built to withstand Extremis. Sometimes when he’s lucky, he can change his routine, put on the other armor, and slip out for one of his more “discreet” missions, where he can enjoy himself far more.

Today was one of those days, except that the minor villain Tony got to roast with his own hands couldn’t tame his hunger. He’s got an itch under his skin that he doesn’t know what to do about, so he’s heading for the gym to try to work it out. Except that Barnes is already there, beating the ever loving shit out of a punching bag.

Tony holds back for a while, devouring him with his gaze. Barnes is shirtless, every muscle, every inch of scarred skin and gleaming metal on display. He’s wounded, a collection of bruises flourishing on his right side, and his hair is flowing wild, not pulled up into a ponytail or a bun, like he keeps it at home.

Something happened today and Tony isn’t sure if he wants to know what, despite the spike in his curiosity. He resumes his walk and can see the change in Barnes’ body language as he notices he has company. He twists around after one particularly energetic punch and gets all up in Tony’s space, hissing angrily.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Incinerating an asshole,” Tony answers calmly, not even flinching. “Why? Did someone set your ass on fire?”

“Pierce got out.”

Tony’s eyes go round as plates “ _Alexander_ Pierce?! Wasn’t he dead?”

“Apparently not. He survived the operation and then was sent to the Raft prison. The world was told that he died, like he deserved, but now the bastard is miraculously alive again and free!”

“Wait, how the hell did he escape from the Raft?”

“That’s what I wanted to know but you were out there playing vigilante!” Barnes jabs a finger in his chest. _And hell no, he didn’t!_

“Fuck you!” Tony grunts back, grabbing the offending hand and twisting the whole arm sharply.

Barnes cries out and frees himself with a knee to Tony’s stomach followed by a punch that Tony barely manages to block. He throws himself at Tony, all gorgeous rage and hard body lines, wider than Tony’s but not invulnerable to heat. Tony turns Extremis up for a second, overheating Barnes’s metal arm and distracting him enough to roll them over.

“Are you _trying_ to provoke me?!”

Tony’s no longer burning but he still uses his superhuman grip on Barnes’ throat – knees at each side of his waist – and watches in amusement as Barnes’ eyes glaze over, hips twitching under Tony’s weight, and he shifts his hold, cutting the air supply but not threatening to crush the bones underneath anymore.

“Oh, so this is what you wanted, huh?”

Barnes’ jaw goes slack, hands gripping at Tony’s hips, spine arching. Tony releases him when his lips start trembling and rolls him around sharply, pining his wrists to the ground. He’s coughing in between hoarsely whispered profanities and Tony positions himself on top, maneuvering his knee between Barnes’ legs to spread them and then uses his free hand to rip his pants off.

“You asshole, I liked those,” Barnes grunts and puts enough strength into his struggling so Tony has to pay some attention for a second into making sure his grip is secure. He reaches down and grasps that juicy pair of balls from behind, making Barnes cry out and collapse on his elbows.

“Quiet, moron!” Tony chastises, shifting his grip to the base of the man’s rock-hard cock. “And remember- you want something from me? Then be a good whore and know your place.”

Barnes grunts out a “fuck you” but it’s the least convincing argument ever, considering how his hips buck up, ass on display and glistering with lube between the cheeks. Either he already got himself off earlier or he had gone in search of Tony this evening, only to find him gone, and was left frustratingly unsatisfied. Which would explain his horrible mood.

Either way – it would be a shame to waste such a thoughtfully cozied-up fuckhole.  

“Aw, is that for me?” Tony trusts three fingers in to try out the satisfyingly tight give of flesh. “How thoughtful honey, you didn’t have to.”

Barnes hisses but guffaws right after. “I want a dick. The fact that the nearest one is attached to you it’s an inconvenience I’m willing to bear with.”

Tony smacks his butt playfully, with a hungry grin, frees his own cock and wastes no time in guiding himself into Barnes, entering him all at once and burying himself to the halt.

“Fuck!” Barnes cries out and rolls his hips when Tony doesn’t move – partly teasing, partly savoring the moment – whines for more even though there’s no way he isn’t hurting, and enjoying it.

Fine then, Tony gets the gist and shifts his hand from the wrists to twist in Barnes’ hair, keeping his head down as he starts pounding into him.

It doesn’t take long for the other man to abandon the last traces of pretense, urging Tony to go faster, to give him more, sweat soaked skin shifting with the movement of muscles underneath as he tries to meet Tony’s thrusts. ( _“Fuck yes, that’s it perfect. Ah- Yes let me feel it- Harder! Shit there, more…_ _)_ Tony reinforces his hold and he melts altogether, chest resting on the floor, back curved beautifully to present his ass and a delicious string of moans and pleadings leaving his mouth. ( _C'mon open me up, give it to me whole, the entire thing, deeper, yesss- faster, faster c'mon fuck me like a whore, make me take it hard…_ _Fuuck!!_ _”)_

Tony’s walking the edge, his whole body aflame even though he’s not using Extremis to heat it up. All the can feel is Barnes around him, the gorgeous sight of him, the wetness and velvety texture of his insides swallowing Tony’s cock, the voice in his ears praising him and demanding more, the smell of sex and desire… He’s grateful for Extremis because sex like that? – He’s never had and never would have been able to have it before. Not only because he didn’t have the strength or stamina but neither the frame of mind to be so careless and greedy.

But Barnes isn’t less greedy than him, taking all he can handle and yet asking for more.

Tony lets go, chases that itch under his skin, translates it into movement, pushing his body to its new limits and Barnes stops talking altogether, mouth open around an aborted cry, drool pooling from the corner of his mouth on the floor and his tongue curls inwards a second before Tony thrusts into him just right and he finally cries out, his whole body going stiff and vibrating with the strength of his release. Tony fucks him through it, barely managing a dozen strokes more into that maddening tightness before something snaps inside him and he finally catches that last strand of satisfaction, of completion.

He empties himself inside of Barnes and practically collapses on top of him. Gathering the last of his strength Tony manages to roll onto the floor and turn his face towards his partner.

“You oka?” he asks more out of consideration than because he’s genuinely worried. The blessed out look on the guy’s face is answer enough. Although he manages to crack open one eye and smile tiredly at Tony.

“Nee’d'that,” he mumbles and Tony huffs under his breath.

“I could tell.” But when he focuses on Barnes again the man is fast asleep, right there, on the floor, with come dripping out of his abused, naked ass.

Tony takes a second to congratulate himself on a job well done before drifting off himself, feeling more satisfied and worn out that he could ever remember feeling. Whatever, it’s not like either of them can get cold or suffer from back pain.

 

***

 

Tony is surprised to wake up on the couch in the penthouse. He blinks up at the ceiling wondering how the hell he got there, but then a noise from the kitchen attracts his attention.

Barnes is standing in front of the sink pouring what looks like an industrial amount of spaghetti into a colander.

“Are you trying to feed an elephant?” Tony asks hoarsely, rubbing at his eyes.

Barnes turns around with a grin. “I’m trying to feed the both of us. Pretty sure we could give an elephant a run for its money.”

He isn’t wrong. Tony these days needs an insane amount of calories and proteins per day, that he mostly satisfies with specially blended smoothies and energy bars but still, real food is always nice.

Barnes brings a bowl and a fork over. Apparently hadn’t found anything to make sauce with, he just bumped a can of tuna on top of each, which isn’t half bad. Simple, but with the workout Tony had a few hours before he would be tempted to eat the table if he could.

Tony gets way too enthusiastic and ends up choking on a mouthful. He narrows his eyes at Barnes, laughing at his expense in the seat across, and makes a point of fitting another insane amount of pasta into his mouth.

Barnes just rolls his eyes and goes back to eating. He looks more relaxed and at ease than Tony’s ever seen him, his facial expressions unguarded and dynamic for a change.

“You look better,” he points out and Barnes shrugs.

“I told you I needed that.”

Tony ponders for a moment, twisting his fork in the pasta. He probably shouldn’t ask and risk to break the comfortable atmosphere, but he really wants to know.

“So is this a you thing or a HYDRA thing?”

Surprisingly, Barnes doesn’t even react to that, no flinch, no muscle tensing, just a nonchalant shrug.

“A little of both, I guess. Depends of what do you consider ‘me’ and what not.” When Tony doesn’t answer he continues. “I tend to get out of my own control after a while, too much tension, little release and my whole body feels like I’m walking on a string, ready to snap and to attack anybody nearby just to alleviate it. HYDRA used to beat it out of me if it got really bad, that’s where the response to violence comes from. I prefer sex and, how do you kids call it these days? Power-play? It’s an old me preference, except that I used to be on the other end of the spectrum. Nowadays I need… what did you tell me before? To be put in my place.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You be a good whore and know your place?”

“Okay, I might have said that. Do I need to apologize now?”

Barnes snorts and waves his fork dismissively. “Nah, I liked it. Besides, that’s the point. I need to be periodically shown my place – either by physical violence or by service – or I lose track of my own mind and get jumpy, violent and irrational. I hate that more than the pain or the humiliation.”

“So you’ve been using me” Tony realizes.

“No.” Barnes pointedly raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been giving you what you wanted. What _I_ got out of it didn’t concern you.”

“Until yesterday? You were all over the place.”

Barnes sighs, his face clouding over. “Yeah, well. It hadn’t been a good day, I needed something more… dominant.”

Tony hums and puts his empty bowl down, heading for the bar.

“If this is going to be a regular thing, I’m going to need you to be frank with me,” he says, not unkindly, coming back with a scotch for both of them.

“Are we playing twenty questions now?” Barnes raises an eyebrow but accepts the drink, eyes tracking Tony as he returns to his seat.

“Will you answer them if I ask?”

Bucky shrugs. “I don’t really have anything to hide. Benefit of being my own agent, I suppose. Go ahead.”

Tony settles back on the cushions across from him, crossing his legs. “Are you Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier?”

Barnes looks contemplative for a second, pursing his lips “Neither. Both,” he finally concedes. “It’s not a divided personality type, it’s an accumulation of experiences. I remember everything by now. I remember growing up in Brooklyn with Steve, I remember the World War and then I remember everything HYDRA did to me and made me do. They didn’t actually wipe my memory, more like blocked it and it’s not like I was literally brainwashed – I never believed in HYDRA’s ideals or preached their ways. I was just a blank state every time I woke up, the only kind of memory I had were instinct and muscle memory. I knew to obey and I knew how to fight. So I did it. But the person I’m today isn’t just a sum of those experiences, I don’t feel like either of those men, I don’t feel like I’m a mix of them.”

“You’re what was left of them and then what you built on top,” Tony finishes for him and Barnes shrugs.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it. Next question?”

“Did you kill my parents?”

“Yes and no. I was supposed to kill them and make it look like a drunken accident. Ironic, since Howard caused the drunken accident all by himself. When I got there your mother was already dead, her neck was broken, but your father was mostly unhurt and trying to get out of the wrecked car. He saw me and pleaded me for help. I just stood there, trying to remember why the hell that voice sounded so familiar, until the car exploded. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Not really,” Tony concedes. “If it had been my mother I would have been resentful, but Howard? He was dead to me long before the accident.” He keeps his voice calm, stomping down on a new wave of hate. When his parents died everyone wanted to know how Tony felt about losing his father, only his father. Rhodey is the only person that ever heard Tony say he was glad that that bastard didn’t survive after killing Maria. Better leave the past where it belongs, tho. “Next question.” He punctuates with a sip of his scotch “Why did you come to me and not to Steve?”

“I have three things in mind right now – revenge on HYDRA, the bloody way; getting fucked regularly; and figure out who I am gonna be from now on. Steve can’t provide help for any of it. He’ll just cry and stare at me with cow eyes, or he’ll lock me up in a ‘secure’ location and rain down shrinks on me. He’s gonna try to turn me back into someone who I am not anymore, someone who I can’t be. He doesn’t want me, he wants Bucky, and he won’t stop until he gets him. I’ll either have to sacrifice my own agency – which I’m not going to do now that I finally have it back – or break his heart. Possibly his face too.”

“You are assuming he will try to impose himself over you?”

“Do you think he won’t?”

Tony thinks about it. He knows how headstrong and irrational Cap can be, but even if he found it in himself to overcome his character flaws for Barnes… “When you lose someone-” Tony begins, and for a moment he feels it again, feels the emptiness in the walls, in the air and his heart. It’s not as bad as it used to be before Extremis, but he knows it will take time to get rid of the feelings for good. “And they come back to you completely different… It’s the worst kind of pain. You miss this one person or being, and you see glimpses of them but it’s not the same and it burns through your memory of them, you start to question what was real and what was not, and you desperately cling to those memories, try to get them to show you that part of them that you want so badly to see, and so you hurt them in the process.”

“Who was it?” Barnes asks.

“Someone I trusted more than I ever trusted myself,” Tony answers and looks up at him. “I made the choice to stay away from that being when I realized that my inability to accept their new identity was hurting us both. But I know Steve, I know he won’t give up that easily. He’ll bulldoze over everything you say and move heaven and earth in an attempt to fix you.”

Barnes shrugs. “My point exactly. Do you know where I met your Black Widow?” He doesn’t wait for Tony to answer and continues. “I was mostly awake during the eighties. HYDRA owed a favor to the KGB, since they’ve been providing cover for the bastards so I spent a couple of years ‘on loan’ to Mother Russia. I had to do a bunch of jobs for them in return and in the meantime I trained the girls in the Red Room.”

“You _trained_ Natasha?”

Barnes nods. “We never spoke much, but I remember covering for her when I caught her stealing food one day. She would have been killed otherwise or at the very minimum beaten up for insubordination. I guess she never forgot because she’s been dropping me warnings about Steve’s plans to ambush me. She also told me to come here.”

“I figured. So you don’t want to get help?”

“Do you?” Barnes smiles sarcastically. “I know that whatever you’ve been doing to yourself-” He waves his hand around, encompassing Tony’s body “-has been messing with your head.”

“I’m perfectly fine. I just got rid of some reservations. It’s a useful side-effect.” Tony rolls his eyes, and Barnes lets out a guffaw. He stands up and crosses the distance between them, picking up the bottle of scotch.

“Then you’re as perfectly fine as I am. The reason I decided to risk coming to you is because I saw how you killed Rumlow, and I’ve been watching you. I figured out your stealth games, I know how you don’t mind getting your hands dirty. You even like it, when you think you’re doing the right thing.”

“Everyone I kill deserves to die.”

“True. But try to explain that to Captain Justice and Faith.” He takes a gulp of the scotch right out of the bottle and flops down on Tony’s lap, straddling his hips. “He cares too much. You and I? – We do what needs to be done.”

Tony circles his waist with both arms and pulls him closer, opening his mouth when Barnes offers him the bottle and swallowing the bitter liquid dry.

“Nobody ever believed I was able to care. So why should I?”

“Coming from somebody who is expected and probably should care more but doesn’t really give a fuck? – I’ll drink to that.”

 

***

 

“Anything new?” Barnes asks striding into the workshop. Tony looks up from his project and turns around in his chair, beckoning him closer.

“Thought so, but it was a false alarm. Otherwise? Nothing.”

“Fuck!” Barnes curses, completely ignoring him. “It’s been almost a month! Where the fuck is he hiding?”

“Maybe on some farm, laying low, maybe he retired. Barnes, calm down. Where have you been, it’s been four days?”

“Working,” he snaps back, pacing back and forth, tense as a rod. “He did not retire. He contacted Ward, we know that much. He _has_ to be out there somewhere, and he’s planning something-”

Tony stands up and marches towards him, grabbing the back of his neck and manhandling him towards the window, pushing the side of his face against the tinted glass.

“I. Said. Calm. Down!” he repeats with his most dominant voice, dry and sharp as a razor. “We’re already doing everything we can, but your impatience isn’t helping. You’re losing control.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck- it’s just that…”

“I know,” Tony assures, using his body to keep Barnes plastered to the window but coaxing him to roll his hips, tugging his pants down. He tightens his hold on Barnes’ neck and grins when he feels the body under him start to relax. “Ssssh… that’s it. I’m going to take care of you now. Be a good boy for me, will you?”  

Barnes makes an inarticulate noise, content to let himself be used. He’s sweet this time, dead tired after whatever he’s been doing in his free time but unstable enough to easily fall under Tony’s spell with just a few words whispered in his ear. Tony fucks him deeply and patiently, dragging his cock out almost completely before fucking back in. Sweet and slow, keeping the other man’s hips firmly against the glass until he’s a shaking, moaning mess under Tony’s hands, cheeks flushed and tinted like aged gold from the evening sun, beautiful and pliant and Tony can smell the need emanating from him.

It’s almost perfect, but… The next time he draws back he pushes out carefully and steps back a few feet, disentangling himself from the pants and underwear forgotten around his ankles.

Barnes looks at him over his shoulder, eyes barely open enough and lips crimson red from where he’s been chewing on them. “Tony?”

“Strip,” Tony commands, leaning with naked ass on the nearest table, cock still hard and standing proudly at attention. “Let me see.”

Barnes turns around, hands traveling to the straps of his tactical uniform in an almost dreamy haze, peeling his layers away obediently until he’s completely naked, bathed in the light of the sunset and looking at Tony pleadingly.

With a wicked smile, Tony pushes himself away from the table and sheds his tank top as he comes to stand chest to chest with Barnes, and raises his hand to tangle his fingers in the long, silky strands. He pulls on them and locks their lips together, turning the kiss from sweet and chaste to deep and filthy in a matter of seconds.

Barnes moans into his mouth and Tony pulls them closer with his hands on his lover’s ass. “Hold on,” he grunts and steps forward, fumbling until Barnes hits the glass and Tony picks him up and lowers him onto his cock.

Barnes moans, rough and loud, as he’s breached again, and Tony starts moving, gradually picking up the pace as his own self-control flies away. He can feel the nails dragging along his spine and shoulder blades, the powerful legs locked at the small of his back spasming every few thrusts. He can see the city sparkling with a billion streetlights,  like a sky full of stars, but he definitively prefers to just bury his face in the crook of his lover’s collarbone, delighting himself in the smell of sex and the cries of pleasure in his ear.

“Please, please… I wanna… I need,” Barnes whispers, moving his hand to his own cock and Tony hisses at him, punctuating his words with a harsh thrust. “No. You come on my cock or you don’t come at all, understood?”

“Yes!” The hand comes to grasp the short hairs at the base of Tony’s neck instead and he smiles, speeding up in lieu of a compromise.

Tony knows when Barnes is about to come by the already familiar tensing of his muscles so he leans in to whisper in his ear, “C'mon, babe, that’s it, pretty boy, come for me, you can do this, do it for me, now,” and rides the wave of his own blissful pleasure till the end.

“That was different,” Barnes mumbles as Tony guides him to the couch and arranges them both, skin to skin.

“Did the work, didn’t it?”

“Only because you’re hot, you big softie.”

Tony snorts. “Don’t pretend like I didn’t melt your brain, Barnes.” He tilts his head so he can capture his lover’s lips and lick into his mouth.

“About that…” Barnes says breaking the kiss. “Remember what you told me about names being a big part of one’s identity?”

Tony arches an eyebrow. He vaguely remembers mentioning something of the sort while philosophically drunk a week ago.  “Yeah?”

“I don’t think I ever had anyone call me James. Not even my family as far as I can remember, it has always been Bucky or Barnes.”

“Do you want me to call you James?”

“Let’s try for a while. I wanna know how or if it fits.”

“If I fits, I sits.”

“What?”

“Nothing, an old Internet Meme,” Tony chuckles. Then pecks him on the lips. “Okay, James, a little bit ordinary but you’re extraordinary enough as it is.”

James, huh? He can do that. Tony can totally do that. He only has to change the way he’s been calling the man in his head for as long as he’s known him and make sure to voice it out loud too. No biggie.

Except that for some reason it does feel like a biggie, just not in that annoyingly frustrating way that Tony expected it too.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Internet memes,” Tony lies and pulls him into another kiss as a way of distraction.

 

***

 

The call comes in the worst possible moment – namely, when Tony’s wrist deep in James’ quivering hole – so he mentally rejects it and focuses on the task at hand.

However, his phone goes off again like five minutes later, and then again and again.

“What!” Tony barks off, into the hologram of a cellphone that Friday so graciously supplied after the fifth time. “I’m busy.”

“Tony, we’ve got a situation,” Steve says in a clipped voice and Tony rolls his eyes. James looks up from where he’s gracelessly sprawled over the table like a spent, satisfied mess, a frown forming between his eyebrows.

Tony comes to sit on the table by his side and reaches out to soothingly pet his buttocks, the sweet gesture completely at odds with the ice in his voice. “So what is it to me? I’m not a part of your superhero boy band anymore, remember?”

“Tony, c'mon,” Steve sighs. He sounds wary and tired, and a part of Tony wants to find it in himself to care, but he’s still more annoyed about the interruptions during his sexy time than bothered by whatever crawled up Cap’s ass and died there. “I wouldn’t be calling you if we didn’t need you.”

He shots one glance at James, now propped up on his elbows and raising an eyebrow at him. Tony purses his lips and grimaces in a silent “ _Let’s see what the fuck he wants at least._ ”

“What, my methods aren’t too radical for your self-righteous American heart now?” James rolls his eyes and shakes his head exasperatedly. Tony grins at him. Okay, so he probably should tune down the assholeness a tad, but he’s been dealing with Cap’s team drilling his ears off about the “target casualties” in his solo missions for weeks now. So he’s gonna grab this wave and ride it all the way to the shore.

Tony can practically hear Cap grinding his teeth. “What the hell happened to you? You weren’t like this before.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

A moment of silence. “Fine. I’m assuming you know that Pierce is alive and on the run.”

_Oh?_

“Or course. I’ve been tracking him and no, before you ask I can’t give up his location because I haven’t been able to find him. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“That’s because he probably did. Our contacts at the Raft managed to find a witness among the prisoners that we could persuade to talk. He didn’t exactly know what he described but we know how Pierce escaped. Apparently, some of his men infiltrated the supply staff, or were there from the beginning, and he’s been receiving the supplements with Terrigen. He cocooned.”

“He’s an inhuman?” Well, didn’t that made everything more complicated? Or not…

“He’s – there isn’t a dignified way to say this – he’s invisible.”

“What? Completely?!” Tony blinks, he isn’t sure what that new development means for their mission and James’ revenge.

“We don’t know, but there were some sightings so it’s entirely possible that it’s controlled at will. The fact is that we can’t see him, and he can do anything, provide for himself with almost anything, without being seen or identified, so we need other ways to locate him. Energy signatures, bio-scanner-things… I don’t know, you’re the tech expert. We need something beyond our senses, Tony, and I think in this case the more people are involved in the manhunt, the better. We should work together, and with SHIELD. Pierce may not be dangerous like a solo man, but he’s still got a lot of influence, his word is practically the law for what’s left of HYDRA. We have to catch him before he puts the organization back together.”

“I know, I know. Let me think about what I can do and I’ll get back to you,” Tony says and cuts the call.

“They can’t have him,” James says, voice clipped and tense from where he’s shifted into a sitting position behind Tony. “I need to… He’s mine. I have to see his chest or his head open, I need to see him dead.”

“I know,” Tony says, and covers with his hand James’ balled up fist. “But Cap’s right. I’ve been scanning all the security cameras of the country and then some for weeks and my facial recognition software only came up with lookalikes. How many false calls did we have already? He isn’t only not appearing in public, he’s covering his tracks well. This actually facilitates our job. I can come up with something to track the Inhuman gen, but they’re sprinkling up like mushrooms all over the world. Until we can narrow the parameters and estimate his location we’re going to need a ton of back-up.”

“What if they get to him first?” James looks away and there’s a barely perceptible flicker of fear in his eyes. It, more than anything, makes up Tony’s resolve. He doesn’t really care about Pierce so much. Tony may not be the definition of a bleeding heart these days, but he likes to stay true to his principles. Until Pierce caused trouble again Tony would have been ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. A second chance, never a third or a fourth, but a second at least for sure. However, it’s different for James.

For him, it’s not just a matter of revenge, it’s a matter of being able to sleep at night. As long as Pierce is alive, HYDRA will keep one of it’s heads always rising. It’s the work of almost a year thrown overboard, it’s the instinctive terror, the blind hate and rage. James needs to see that man dead. And at the end of the day, that’s what actually matters to Tony in this mission. Even if he has to work with the Avengers again, risking for Steve to figure out whom he’s been spending his time with, even if he has to sweep every forest and small town in existence, he’ll find Pierce. And unlike with Bruce, giving up isn’t an option.

Tony shifts a little closer, until they are flush naked skin to naked skin, and hooks his index finger under James’s jaw, inciting him to turn his head and meet his eyes.

“Then,” he says in a deceptively neutral tone, sounding as calm and determined as he feels, “I’ll bring him to you, or I’ll bring you his head on a silver plate.”

**Author's Note:**

> [ My tumblr ](http://fakesheep-luna.tumblr.com)


End file.
